And Suddenly
by saicho-18
Summary: FIN scottroguewarren rogue's acting perky, scott's unnerved. add warren into the mix and you get pure, unadulterated teenaged romance. please read and review -
1. chapter 1

**Author's Notes**: this is probably the first and the last time you'll hear from me, so please keep on reading this for some explanations-cum-warnings about the fic.

**-** this is most probably can be considered as AU, since i'm not entirely sure if what i've done is even plausible in the x-men evo world.

**-** there is absolutely nothing deep in this fic. believe me. this is purely for the sake of romance, so if you see something that might look like a plot twist of some sort, believe me, it's not.

**-** i'm not really sure about the sequencing of the episodesof x-men evo, but i've seen quite a few to know a little bit about their world. this fic happens sometime between 'angel's wings' (where angel, warren worthington, first appears) and the 'dark horizon' episodes (where apocalypse makes an appearance).

**-** and before i forget, i'd just like to warn you that some of the characters here are going to be acting way out of character, especially scott. i don't know why, but it's probably because the whole thing is done on his point of view.

on with the fic.

After two whole hours of tossing and turning in his overly soft bed, one Scott Summers finally succumbed to his temporary insomnia and got up. He groped for his glasses on his nightstand and put them on. Wouldn't want to hurt anybody, now, did he? He then glanced at the digital clock on top of his bedside table and saw that it read forty-eight minutes after two o'clock in the morning.

He heaved out a sigh, ruffled his hair, and went out of his room. He didn't bother with his robes; he was sure that nobody was still up at this hour.

He headed down to the kitchens, hoping to get a warm glass of milk that he hoped would put him to sleep.

The manor seemed a little more than creepy without the normal buzz that the students emitted in the daylight, and Scott was somewhat regretting that he didn't bother with the lights.

After a brief walk through three floors, Scott finally reached his destination.

And in the kitchens, the lights were on.

He walked in, and saw somebody sitting at the marble counter. That somebody was wearing an overly large shirt that reached her knees, even though she was sitting down. She had her back towards him but he knew instantly who it was, just by her hair.

"Rogue," he greeted as he went straight for the fridge.

She jumped from the counter and turned to look at him. "Cyke," she greeted back.

There were no words that could possibly describe the look of utter shock on Scott's face when he looked up at her from the fridge's door. "No make up!" he practically shouted.

She sat down one of the stools and leaned her elbows at the counter she had been sitting on. "Gee, thanks," she said sarcastically and proceeded to stab her spoon down the pint of ice cream that she was eating. "Contrary to popular belief, it _does_ come off, you know,"

"Sorry," he mumbled, messing up his hair. He couldn't believe how pale she looked without the make-up. Through the ruby tinted shades, he could see that she looked even younger. "You just caught me off-guard. Plus, you're wearing a shirt. _Just_ a shirt,"

"Well, I didn't think anybody would be making a late night trip down the kitchens too, you see," she replied, putting another spoonful of ice cream in her mouth. "I've been doing this for weeks now, and so far, you're the first one to break the peace,"

"Hmm," he replied absent-mindedly. His attention was now given to the contents of the refrigerator. "Rogue, where's the cookie dough ice cream? There were like four pints of them in here the other day. I should know, I bought them,"

"Too late, this is the last pint," she said. "Sorry to eat it all, I'll pay you back, with interest, tomorrow,"

"Nah, don't sweat about it," he said, taking a seat down the stool in front of Rogue's. She immediately scooted to the next seat to her right, taking the ice cream with her. He looked at her pointedly, asking the question through his eyebrows.

"Well," she started. "You said it yourself, I _am_ wearing _only _a shirt. And you of all people should know how my mutation goes . . ."she trailed off with that forlorn look on her face again, making her seem older to his eyes.

He scooted down to the seat next to him, just as she had done, so now they were facing each other again. "Don't try to kid me, you only want the ice cream for yourself!" he said with a boyish look on his face. "Now give me that spoon. I've been wanting to eat this forever,"

"Fine," she said, without the usual seriousness in her voice, standing up and walking over to the drawers. "Be greedy like that, but I'm only sharing because it _is _yours," she proceeded to take another spoon and went back to her stool, pulling the pint right smack between them.

After minutes of quiet eating, Rogue broke the silence.

"So," she began, taking the spoon out of her mouth. "How are you and Jean?"

"What?" sputtered Scott, who happened to be at the point of swallowing the ice cream. He put the spoon down. "What do you mean?"

"Oh please, fearless leader. We all know that there's something mutual going on between you two,"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Rogue," he replied, bowing his head to hide his blush. "I think the sleep deprivation's getting to you. You're imagining things,"

It took her a couple of seconds to reply. "Sure, if you say so," and she continued eating.

Scott contemplated at the spoonful of ice cream in his hand. Rogue said that everybody--_everybody_-- knew about his crush on Jean. Damn, and he thought he was being discreet about it. "You know that the only reason I haven't done anything is because of Duncan, right? She has a boyfriend and I respect that,"

Rogue looked at him quizzically. "I wasn't saying anything," she said and the laughter in her voice couldn't be held back. "You're being too defensive, man. Besides, you know that I would be the last person on earth to pass judgment on others,"

"Yeah, I know," he mumbled, scooping another spoonful. "Sorry,"

They ate again in silence, and after they had finished the pint, Rogue attempted once more at conversation.

"Scott," she began with a tone of uncertainty in her voice and she had averted her eyes. "If . . .if you had . . .somehow . . .gotten rid of your mutation . . .what would you do?"

"Well," he replied, looking thoughtful. "Most probably, I would take off these shades and look at everyone in the eye. I want to know just what exactly the colors of your eyes are,"

She was silent for a moment. "No," she said. "I mean . . .about your life . . .would you leave the Institute?"

"No, definitely not," he said quickly. "Why would I want to do that? I love it here. Besides, where would I go? The Professor's the only person I have left,"

"Well, what about your brother?" she asked. "He's in Hawaii, right?"

"Yeah, but that would feel weird," said Scott. "We've been apart for so long and then I would come and crash on his house? That would be awkward,"

Another moment of silence from her before she replied. "So, you won't leave the Institute if ever that your mutation was . . . gone? "

"I guess not," said he. "Because I don't really see a reason why I would go, if ever. I mean, what would change, really?"

"Don't you know?" she asked in a weird voice and finally looking up to meet his eyes. "Discrimination goes two ways. We're shunned by the normal people, so don't you think that the people in here would somehow detest you, if ever, because of your unbelievable luck?"

It took a long time before Scott could answer. He never really thought about the circumstances that Rogue was offering him, and the reactions that she was expecting from the people in the mansion were too negative for his taste. He'd rather not think about it, truth be told.

Before he could open his mouth, Rogue had already stood up and stretched her limbs. The serious aura that had once covered her was gone. She was smiling again. "Well, that's it for me," she said. "I have to go to sleep 'cause it's the end of our Christmas vacation and the horror that is school awaits us. 'Night,"

Scott stood up abruptly. "Wait," he said to her back. She looked back at him. "I'll walk you to your room,"

She looked at him quizzically once again. "Are you sure?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Our rooms are in the opposite wings of the mansion,"

To this, he only shrugged.

"Fine," Rogue muttered and that was the beginning of silence in their walk.

When they reached her room, Scott asked her what all the questions about the cure for their mutation was about.

"Oh," said she, not meeting his eyes once again. "It's nothing, I was just wondering 'cause you know, you're the only one I know who doesn't have a home to go back to, if ever our powers are gone,"

Scott supposed that he was being to slow, because he was just about to ask her to elaborate, when she bade him a quick goodnight and went inside the room.

He sighed and walked to his room. When he got there, he dropped on his bed and fell asleep at once.

And although he only got a few hours of sleep and the vicious teachers at Bayville awaited the innocent students, when Scott woke up, he was in a good mood. For some reason unknown to him, he finished his morning routines humming.

He walked to his closet and a particular sweater, the color lighter than his other clothes, caught his eye. He took it out and put Rogue's gift for him on, and he was ready to tackle the day.

tbc


	2. chapter 2

2/13

When Scott went downstairs for breakfast, he saw that Jean, Kurt, Rogue and Professor Mcoy were already seated and eating. After pouring himself a glass of juice, he sat at the table and joined them.

"So," he started. "Who's riding with me today?" His head, for some reason, distinctly snapped to Rogue's direction. She looked at him, puzzled, and raised her eyebrows.

"I am," said Kurt and Evan at the same time.

"I am!" shouted Kitty, who just entered the kitchen.

"Well I guess Rogue will be riding with me," Jean said smiling.

"No," replied the Goth. "I'll just walk. Risty and I have to go over to the park to collect some flowers for Bio,"

He saw Jean nod. He knew that she was relieved, on account of the fact that Jean had made earlier plans to pick Duncan up this morning. Everybody continued to eat while keeping up the chatter, except for Rogue who stayed silent.

After everybody had cleared the table, Scott stood up and went to the sink. He sighed and he looked at the pile of dishes in front of him. It was his turn to wash the dishes today.

"Rogue," Professor Hank called. "A moment, if you please,"

Rogue complied but said nothing.

Scott knew it was rude to eavesdrop on other people's conversations, but he really couldn't help hearing theirs. Beast was talking somewhat loudly, after all and he still _was _in the room.

"I have made the preparations that are needed," said he to the girl. "All I need is to test it so it is absolutely necessary for you to be there. Do you understand?"

Rogue nodded. "Will it work?"

"I'm not sure yet," sighed Beast. "But I am eighty percent certain that it _will_,"

"Thanks, Professor," she said. "I'll meet you after school,"

And with that, both of them left the kitchen, leaving Scott to finish the dishes with a burning curiosity to know just what the heck they were talking about.

He finished his task and he went out to the garage to get his car. He, along with the others, drove to the normal and mutant alike teenager's bane: school.

When they got there, he dropped the others off at the curb and went off to find a parking spot. On his way to the entrance of Bayville High, he saw the Brotherhood hanging out by the fence, and Jean talking with Duncan on one of the tables.

With a sigh, he walked inside the building alone. It was still somewhat early, fifteen more minutes before the bell rings, but Scott was in no mood for company, so he headed straight to his first period physics room to read on some of the former lecture notes.

Physics always reminded him of Professor Hank, and eventually, his thoughts flew to Rogue's conversation with the said teacher. He wasn't really the nosy type, well, at least not in public, but Rogue's been acting up a bit weird these days, always staring at nothing, daydreaming and what about that conversation she had with him last night? She actually seemed . . . well, for a lack of a better word, perky.

Their last session in the Danger Room, the whole team had to repeat the stimulation three times because _she _had been hit three times. Nobody took it badly, of course, nobody had anything better to do at that time, but as the team leader, Scott was worried about her actions. Those mistakes could prove dangerous, or dare he say it, lethal when they are fighting real battles.

The sharp ring of the school bell, which signaled the beginning of class, interrupted his train of thought, and a few minutes later, the whole class, including Jean and their teacher, came in.

"So," began Mr. Bennett, the nice Physics teacher with a smile. "Missed me?"

And with that, school officially restarted.

For Scott, Physics was a breeze, hence the two periods reserved for it flew by instantly. After the said subject was Economics, which was a very boring class for him, on account of the fact that it required no computations whatsoever. The woman-teacher usually ate up the time by ranting about the evils of the politicians.

After the bell that ended Eco, Scott moved to the Drama classroom. On his way there, he chanced upon Rogue walking alone with a peculiar expression on her face; it actually seemed as if she were smiling. In public, nonetheless.

"Hey," he greeted. She didn't hear him it seemed. Rogue continued walking through the door without giving him so much as a glance. He stood by the doorway, puzzled, for a few seconds before he went in and took his usual seat besides the Gothic girl.

He didn't get the chance to ask her what was up because the teacher came in and started the class.

_Rogue, what's up? Overheard your conversation with Professor Hank this morning. What was that about?_

Those were the three questions that were doodled on the piece of paper that Scott was holding. He was about to fold it up and pass it to her when he questioned just _what_ he was doing. Was it any of his business, really? He shook his head and crumpled the piece of paper. It wasn't any of his business, and he figured that he was only acting like this because his male ego had been wounded by the fact that he _didn't_ know everything that was going on inside the mansion.

Besides, a tiny voice inside his head piqued, he could always ask her in the mansion later on.

"Okay class," the teacher, Mr. Staples, said in unison with the ringing bell. "I want you to read page 63 up to page 79 of the text. Also, choose and memorize a paragraph's length of dialogue, because tomorrow, we will have a random-monologue-quiz,"

The leaving students all groaned.

By the door, Scott caught up with Rogue.

"Hey, Rogue," he said, falling into step with her towards the lockers.

"Could you believe that guy?" she asked. "It's the first day of classes and he's giving us a monologue quiz!"

"Hey, don't sweat it," he said comfortingly. "I know that you're a good actress, _Kate_,"

She laughed dryly at this.

"So," he said, as he watched her put her bag in her locker. "Want to do lunch?"

She looked at him in a way that made him wonder if he had said something wrong. "Why?" She asked. She closed her locker door and walked towards the cafeteria.

"What do you mean 'why'?" he asked, puzzled at the question. Was that so unusual? "I want to have lunch with you, that's why,"

Rogue looked at him, calculating. "Oh, sure," she replied as she took out a piece of paper out of her skirt pocket. "I want to give Kurt something anyway,"

He opened the cafeteria doors for her and asked "And that is?"

"Just . . .something," she replied as they fell in the lunch line.

She just gets more mysterious and more mysterious. Scott turned around and saw that Kurt and Kitty already had a table, and that Jean was already seated with the popular kids' table. His focus went back to the food.

The lunch lady looked at him, her right hand on her waist and in her left was the scoop. "What will it be?"

Scott looked at the options, and picked the thing that looked most edible digestible, more likely to his eyes. After paying for the said 'food', the two of them went over to the table that Kitty and Kurt were sitting in.

Kurt, Kitty and Scott kept up the conversation, ranting about the immorality of the teachers in Bayville, torturing them at the first day of school. Rogue kept quiet, eating her food in a sullen manner.

"Hey Rogue," Kurt called. "Want to go to the arcade later on? I swear this will be the day that I'll beat you at that game,"

"Dream on Blue-Boy," replied she, smiling a little bit. "Can't today, I have that thing. I'll beat you next time,"

Kurt stuck his tongue out at her, and continued his chat with Kitty, who seemed to be going with him to the arcade.

"Thing?" Scott asked, unable to help himself. "What thing?"

Rogue looked at him and shook her head. "It's just a thing. Speaking of which, can I hitch a ride with you after class?"

"Sure," replied he, as the bell rang. "Evan's going to hang-out with his friends anyway,"

"Oh, that reminds me," Kurt voiced. "Kitty and I'll walk straight to the arcade after school. Can't make that ride home with you, Scott,"

"I guess that makes it just you and me," Scott uttered to Rogue. She only nodded.

They all stood up, dropped off their trash at the trash bins and went on their way to class.

Scott couldn't really wait to get back home and see just what exactly this 'thing' is and why the heck Rogue was being so secretive about it.

After getting his stuff from his locker, he went to his Logic classroom, with that young male teacher that was basically the lead actor in most of the female students' fantasies. A period of that and Scott went to Trigonometry. Like Physics, this was also an easy subject for him. For some reason, he was that way: a Whiz Kid in anything that has to do with calculations.

Two periods of Sine, Cosine and Tangent applications, the end-of-the-day bell rang. He went straight to the parking lot to get his car. Leaning on the hood was Rogue, who kept looking at her watch.

"You're excited to get home," he greeted jokingly.

"Whatever," she said, and jumped over the door of the passenger seat and got in.

Scott chuckled, shook his head and dropped his books on the backseat, got on and started the trip that would bring them home.

tbc


	3. chapter 3

3/13

**A/N** btw, if you want mails when i update, just drop me a review and please leave you add. muchos thanks and enjoy.

"Can't this thing go any faster?" Rogue asked, her voice laden with the Southern accent, for the fourth time during the ride.

"As I've told you before," Scott replied, pushing some of his flying hair off of his face. "Any faster and we'd be breaking the speed limit,"

Rogue sighed loudly.

Scott was wondering what all of the hurrying was about. They had just barely left the school premises; the traffic's very light and she wanted him to break the law?

When they got inside the Institute's gates, Rogue all but jumped out of the convertible, (actually, she did jump out, even before he had turned off the ignition) and ran inside the house.

He sighed, gathered his and Rogue's forgotten books, and went inside the mansion. He went straight to the kitchens to check out the contents of the fridge. When he checked out the freezer, he remembered that Rogue still owed him his ice cream. He closed the fridge door and resolved to look for her to get his ice cream.

He decided to walk to his room first; to drop off his books and then to Rogue's to drop off hers.

'Bamf,' he distinctly heard, as his hand touched the knob to Rogue's and Kitty's room. He opened the said door quietly and swiftly, and saw Rogue get something from a drawer. He was about to ask her what exactly she was doing there, and where Kurt was for that matter, another 'Bamf' was heard. A pile of black smoke scattered all over the room, but Rogue was gone.

Scott dropped off the books at her bed angrily and slammed their door shut. How could she? How could she possibly _not_ tell him that she still had access to Kurt's powers? He marched towards the med.-lab, where he was sure to find Rogue. Who else' power did she still have? As the leader of the X-men team, he had the unquestionable right to know just what exactly the power of his team is, and Rogue's not doing so really, _really_ pissed him off. He marched angrily towards the med.-lab, where he was sure to find her, doing that 'thing' with Professor Mcoy.

The steel doors to the med.-lab opened automatically, and he stomped in. "Rogue, what the hell are you trying to prove?"

Rogue, who had been sitting on one of the metal beds, jumped off and with her glove-less hand, touched him in the face. He immediately backed off, but she held her grip. When the pull started to kick in, it was beyond her control to detach herself from him.

A hazy image of Professor Hank running towards them and asking him if he was all right as the last thing that he saw. And then, there was blackness.

When he came to, Scott felt his glasses to check if they were still on and was relieved to find that they still were there. He opened his eyes and it was of no surprise to him that he was lying down one of the metal beds that Rogue was seated on before.

Speaking of Rogue, where was she? How long was he out? He sat up straight and massaged his neck. Her powers truly could pack up a punch. And she had perfect knowledge of that, so why did she shove her hand to his face? It was definitely intentional, but why?

His reverie was interrupted by Professor Hank's voice. "Ah, Scott. Glad to see that you're up," he walked closer to him and checked his pulse. "Nothing's wrong with you, it seems. Rogue's worried sick, and she sends her apologies,"

"Where is she?" he asked, pulling his hand away from the older man's furry one somewhat roughly.

"She's in Charles' office," replied the good doctor. "They're having a talk about what happened in here this afternoon--"

Scott didn't exactly wait for him to finish; as soon as he heard where Rogue was, he bolted out of the med.-lab and into the Professor's office. What was going on? Why was this happening? _What_ exactly was happening?

When he reached his destination, he didn't bother to knock, as he was sure that Professor X was well aware that he was coming. When he got inside, he immediately saw Rogue seated in front of the Professor's desk, with her head hung down. Her head snapped towards him and the door when she heard the noise.

Her eyes widened and her lips broke into a smile as she jumped out of her seat and hugged him tightly. "I'm so sorry," she all but cried. "It was just this experiment, and I really thought that I didn't have it anymore and -- thank goodness that you're okay!"

Scott gave the Professor, who was smiling at them with that knowing look, a look of confusion.

"Ah Scott," said the Professor. At last, some explanations. "You see, Rogue and Hank had been working secretly on a formula, not unlike the one that Hank used to take, to somehow . . . control Rogue's mutation. I had the knowledge that they were planning to commence such a research, but I didn't think that they would do it without my permission,"

Rogue let go of his neck and went back to her seat. A few moments later, Scott followed her to listen more to the Professor's explanations.

"It seems that the young Miss Rogue and Professor Mcoy had only been working on the said formula for only three weeks now," continued the Professor. Rogue hung her head even more. "But I can't say that I'm all that upset about it, Rogue. Given your type of mutation, I know that it must be hard for you, but Chemistry is not the only way that you should depend on. Remember, I _am_ always here to help you if you need anything,"

It took Rogue a couple of seconds to reply. "I know that Professor. It's just so hard . . . the only good thing that this curse has given me are you guys . . . and when I'm here, I feel like I'm nothing but a liability to the group . . ."

"That's not true," Scott suddenly said. "You've helped us loads of times with your powers. It's not a _curse_, Rogue, it's a _gift_,"

Rogue said nothing. He could see it on the look on her face that she didn't believe a word that he had said. The silence stretched on for a few minutes, until the Professor broke it.

"Scott," he said. "I believe that you have another thing to ask Rogue before you came in here?"

Scott remembered. "Rogue," he called, his voice gentle, on account of the fact that he knew that he had no idea just how devastated Rogue felt right at that moment. "Kurt's powers, why didn't you tell me that you still had them?"

Rogue's eyes snapped upward to meet his. "You saw?"

"Yeah," Scott said, somewhat uneasily.

"I believe you should continue this outside," interrupted the Professor. He maneuvered his wheelchair out from behind the desk and towards the door. "Hank is on his way here now, and we have to discuss the afternoon's events,"

The two teenagers complied and walked out of the door. Scott never lifted his gaze on Rogue's walking form, and he was sure that she knew that fact.

"Cyke," she started at last, after a long while of walking in silence. "I never told you, or anybody, about me still possessing your powers because I knew that all of you would be mad at me,"

"That's not true," he replied, repeating a phrase that only a few minutes ago, he had uttered. Only this time though, it no longer held the sincerity that it contained the first time. "Why would we be mad?"

Rogue looked at him pointedly. ­- _Really, - _her voice inside his head echoed. _- You wouldn't be mad at me just because I had your powers? And the fact that I can control them doesn't bother you at all? You don't feel alienated by all of this? -_

Scott shook his head violently. "Stop that!" He found it very unnerving to hear her voice bounce off the walls inside his head, instead of Jean's or the Professor's.

"See?" she replied, looking down at the plush carpet that they were walking on. "Just think how the others would feel if they found out,"

He did think about it and he had to admit that she was right: the X-tem would be somewhat furious at her. Most probably, they would as if their personal space had been invaded, exactly the way Scott was feeling. They would probably feel that she had somehow taken away something that made them unique to the world, and he knew that they would more or less be hostile towards her for it.

Moments later, they found themselves on the garden, in front of the fountain, more specifically. The ice had melted, the water was flowing, but the flowers still were nowhere to be seen. They stood there for a few minutes, gazing at the form of the woman-angel in front of them.

"Are you depressed by all of this?" he asked. He knew it was a stupid question, but he couldn't stand the silence anymore.

"Yeah, as a matter of fact, I am," she replied. "I've been waiting for this to happen for three weeks now. I've made up all sorts of plans inside my head, plans about the changes that would happen when _it's_ gone,"

"So that's the reason why you asked me what I'd do if my mutation's gone last night?"

Rogue nodded and smiled sadly. "Yeah. And that note that I gave to Kurt was one that explained what I was doing. I knew he'd disapprove, but I had to tell him, he's my brother, after all. He's literally the only family I've got,"

"Why aren't you crying?" asked Scott. He knew that sounded rude, but all the people he knew, if put in the same position as her, would --should-- be crying right now.

"You've already seen me cry," she replied sadly. "I'm not going to do it again,"

Scott pitied her, because for the first time since he knew her, he finally understood the weight of Rogue's powers. "Are you going to try again? With the experiment, I mean,"

"If the Professors agree, then yes, I will try again," replied she. "I don't think that there would be any cure for this, except science,"

"Hmm . . . " he murmured. "And if you succeed with the second one, would you leave the Institution?"

"Maybe," she whispered. "I haven't really decided on that yet,"

"I still say that you shouldn't leave. People in here won't look at you differently without your powers,"

She said nothing in return, and the silence lingered on until they were both too cold to stay outside. They went inside the Mansion and they went to their separate rooms.

tbc


	4. chapter 4

4/13

The first week of school after the Christmas Break flew by almost instantly, with almost no change in the students. Well, no change visible to _their_ eyes anyway. Kitty and Kurt were still at it, playing their childish games; Evan was still the skater boy; Jean was still with Duncan; and Rogue was still quiet.

The day after the incident, the Professors informed Rogue who later on informed Scott, as she was advised by the good doctors that it would be best if she had someone her own age to confide in that they had agreed to give the experiment another go. But they agreed on it, only under the condition that if the second one were to fail, she would have to at least try and control her mutation manually. That meant that if this batch' serum didn't work, Rogue would be meeting with Professor X three times a week for mental exercises until she can master her powers.

But that didn't seem to make her happy. If anything, Scott noticed that she had become far more anti-social than ever. He barely even saw her hanging out with Risty anymore.

On his way to the Rec. Room one Saturday morning, Scott passed Rogue staring out the window and leaning against the wall, at the other X-men members lolling about under the Sunday afternoon sun, still wearing somewhat thick clothes as the winds were still sharp. He didn't even have to see it in her eyes that she was sad, he could feel it in the aura that she was emitting around her.

He shrugged it off and walked on. He _had _tried his best to cheer her up these past few days, and nothing worked. He knew that there was a big possibility of the second serum to fail and he could only imagine how devastated Rogue would be if it _did _fail, but enough is enough. He decided to let her mope by herself, as his words of comfort certainly weren't working.

He flopped down the sofa, reached for the remote and clicked open the television. He clicked and he clicked and he clicked the remote, and in a few minutes, he had surfed all the eighty-three channels available. So far, the only movie that was appealing to him was the rerun of the movie 'Born Yesterday'. As he was about to flip back to the said movie, Rogue's distinct voice echoed throughout the first floor of the building, screaming.

Scott didn't even hesitate; he jumped up from the couch and ran back to where Rogue was. He saw her by the door, hugging a man wearing a trench coat. When she let go, he immediately recognized the man as Warren Worthington III.

"Angel!" Rogue exclaimed, patting the blonde man on the shoulders.

The man smiled graciously and sat down his luggage. "Rogue," he greeted in that deep, elegant voice of his, and when his eyes roamed over to Scott, he greeted him too.

Scott walked over to them, and shook the newcomer's hand. "What are you doing here, man?"

"Well," Warren started. "I decided to take up your invitation way back when. I had some free time on my hands so I decided to go here,"

"Ah," Scott replied. He was about to say something but Rogue beat him to it, asking questions about their guest's travels. It was unnerving to see Rogue smiling again; he had to admit, even though he was truly happy for her. And it was even more unnerving to Scott Summers that a newcomer like Warren could do it so easily.

He shook his head and followed Rogue and Warren, who seemed to be heading down to the Professor's office.

On their way, Scott and Rogue found out that Warren had already telephoned Professor X regarding his short vacation in the Institute. The Professor agreed of course on the whole arrangement. Any probable addition to the X-team is welcome with him, and even more so if it is for the sake of beating Magneto to the said addition.

Scott took the opportunity to knock on the door, as Rogue and Warren were too busy catching up. She was, by the way her eyes shone through her make-up, very impressed by whatever the blonde was saying. When they entered the office, the Professor was looking at Scott weirdly, a question in his eyes that Scott couldn't quite answer.

The paralyzed man behind the desk brought his attention to their guest. "Ah, Warren," he started. "Glad to see that you could make it. I, on behalf of the whole Institute, am welcoming you and I wish that you would find your stay here quite pleasurable,"

Warren nodded. "Thank you, Professor. I do believe that I will," Scott noted that his eyes lingered on Rogue a little bit longer as he said those words. What he failed to note was the slight annoyance he felt at that particular fact.

Rogue all but shrieked and immediately grabbed Warren by the hand. "Come on," she started, already walking out the door. "I'll show you your room,"

Scott looked at the Professor, who looked back, and then turned his eyes on the suitcase by the door. Scott sighed and rolled his eyes. "I'll take it, Professor," and with that, he picked up the said luggage and followed Rogue and Warren's trail.

'_Jeez, how long is he planning to stay here?'_ Scott inwardly asked himself as he trudged along the hallways towards the guestroom carrying the unusually heavy suitcase.

As he reached the said destination, he heard muffled sounds coming from inside the room. The door was slightly open, deliberately or otherwise, and he could hear Rogue's laughter from inside.

When he pushed open the door and entered, he was somewhat surprised to find Warren on top of Rogue and the two of them messing up the sheets of the bed.

He was tickling her. _Charming_.

He cleared his throat to interrupt the two. Again, it was unnerving to see such a display of closeness from Rogue. It was good to see her having fun but he was a little offended that she would jump on the first rich and handsome guy that comes along the mansion. He tried his best after all, right?

The duo finally noticed him and got off the bed. They stood up, their posture sheepish, as though Scott had walked in on them doing something that they shouldn't be doing. At least, that's what Scott saw.

His vision also noticed the faint pink tinge in Rogue's cheeks. Scott dropped down the suitcase on the floor rather carelessly and muttered with a scowl "Enjoy,"

He turned around and walked out of the room, towards his own, leaving the door wide open. Like hell he was going to lock them up together.

"What's his problem?" he heard Warren ask.

He walked up to his room, the sound of Rogue's laughter ringing in his ears. How _could_ she act so comfortable around him? It's not like they have a bond or something. He's just a newcomer and she's clinging onto him like they're lifetime best friends. '_Wonder what got her though?_' he thought to himself with an uncharacteristically sarcastic tone. '_The stunning features, the charm or the wealth enough to feed three third-world countries?_'

Scott went inside his room and flopped down onto his bed, face first. He disregarded the fact that the pillow prevented him from breathing properly. Like he disregarded the fact that deep down, he knew that his ego had been scarred once again by Rogue's actions.

Ah, the inner workings of a male's psyche.

He continued on with his internal rant. _He_ was the one who was at Rogue's side when she was asking for help; _he_ was the one who she used as a guinea pig last week; _he_ was the one whom she confided in and blast it all, _he_ was the one who gave her the ice cream!

He was vaguely aware of the fact that his face was all red and that his glasses were askew because of the pillow that was pressing against his face. He tilted his head to one side and saw the chair in front of his computer.

The sweater that Rogue gave him hung on the said object and it sparked up irritation inside him.

_Why exactly was Warren Worthington III in here?!_

tbc


	5. chapter 5

5/13

The next day, Scott woke up, put on his glasses, and saw the time: a minute before his alarm went off. How ironic. He closed his eyes and sixty seconds later, his clock buzzed. He slammed one hand forcefully on the button. He got up, ruffled his messy brown hair and proceeded to the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later, he was walking down the familiar halls to the kitchen. The usual morning people were already eating their breakfast, or rather, just drinking it. He scanned the room for Rogue, though he didn't know exactly _what_ he would do when he found her. It's not like he was going over to her and strike up a conversation; he knew all too well that she would only be talking about Warren.

Huh. Strange, Rogue wasn't in the room. Does this mean that she's still not up? Scott took a seat in the dining table, helping himself to some eggs, with the thought, _the sleep deprivation thing must really be getting to her._

And as if on cue, the object of his thoughts walked in, or sauntered in, her arm around Warren's. _Of course_, Scott thought savagely, _Warren_.

The whole room fell silent at the sight of their resident Goth talking animatedly with the newcomer. Scott wondered silently if the Professor forgot to announce that they had in their midst a perfect one, a noble one, a- he stopped when he realized what he was doing. Why was he being hostile against Warren again?

He jabbed at his egg and drank his coffee. By this time, the-dare he say it-couple had already taken their seats and started on their breakfast. The noise resumed, as the others couldn't really stare at Rogue and Warren any longer.

Warren cleared his throat, minutes later, capturing some of the people's attention. "I'm driving Rogue to school today, and there's plenty of room, so who's up for it?" he asked, his face lighting up with one of his smiles.

"What's your car, Mister . . .?" Evan so tactfully trailed off.

"Worthington," Warren supplied gracefully. "And my car is outside. Of course, it's just a standard white limo and my driver's on vacation so . . . " he trailed off.

Most people, namely Kitty, Kurt, Evan and even Jean, scrambled from their seats to the nearest window to take a look at the said vehicle parked in the curve outside. A chorus of 'cool's and 'wow's were heard, much to Scott's frustration. A minute later, the said people flocked around the newcomer and asked him questions about his car and his travels.

Scott cleared his throat but no one seemed to notice. Infuriated, he dropped down his fork, stood up and put his dirty dishes in the sink. Judging from the reactions on their astonished faces, no one was riding with him. Honestly, the way they were behaving was nothing short of falling down to their knees and worshipping Warren right then and there. Not that he was jealous or anything. Of course not.

He stormed off the room and headed towards the garage to take out his car. He glanced at Warren's car. Now Scott Summers was no fool, and he knew a valuable car when he saw one. It wasn't a stretched limousine as he had first thought, but rather an old-fashioned one, just like the ones in the movies that Scott had always had a soft spot for. The immaculate shade of white of the said vehicle gleamed beautifully under the sharp light of the morning sun. It took almost all of Scott's willpower not to reach out and touch it. He turned away, before he broke one of the unwritten rules of car ownership: Thou shalt not touch another's baby without the owner's permission.

He glanced at his watch and he saw that he had plenty of time before school actually starts. He figured that it _would_ be wrong to start the day this way (angry and jealous at this time of the day!) and that a drive around the town would clear his mind.

He got in the car, turned up the radio and drove off. When he entered the road towards the town, he quickly wiped the idea out of his mind. Cars upon cars were already piled up on the road. He had forgotten about the early morning traffic jams that Bayville was famous for.

He made a sharp U-turn, an illegal one most probably, but no one called him for it so he drove on. He headed straight for school. Since it was still early, the parking area was practically empty. It was littered here and there by the occasional car, usually old and battered, that belonged to the early birds of the faculty staff. He parked on one of the spaces closest to the entrance.

He turned off the radio and killed the engine, but he made no motion to get out. He didn't really feel like associating with anyone yet, and even though the school was still empty, he didn't want to risk running into one of the teachers. Knowing them, they would only give you errands to run until the school bell rings.

It was Rogue's turn to wash the dishes today, so that would mean that the whole group would come in somewhat late. And before he could even follow up that thought, a blur of brown caught his line of vision heading towards the basketball court. That blur cleared up and it turned out to be Pietro holding a basketball. Following Pietro's gaze, he saw Toad and Lance walking towards the court.

It was obvious that Pietro felt somebody watching them because a moment later, his head whipped towards the general direction of the parking lot. He smirked when he saw Scott all alone.

Before the basketball even hit the ground, Pietro was leaning on the hood of Scott's car.

"So," he started. Scott noticed that Toad and Lance had already started the game without Pietro. "Where's your harem?"

"What?" Scott asked, terse. He didn't really want any scratches on his hood. Obviously, Pietro never had a car, which would be a shock if he did, on account of his mutation, and he was never acquainted with the rules.

"I meant the girls from your 'Institution' or whatever you call it," Pietro replied. "You, courageous chief, never go to school alone. What, they all found someone better to drive them?"

Scott resisted the urge to punch the stupid smirk off of his face. What has this guy been doing? Spying on him? Even though he hated to admit it, Pietro's somewhat innocent mockery hit a little too close to home.

"What do you care?" he said as he got out of his sports car after grabbing his books. Great. This was one of those rare days when he wanted to be alone but since irony always gives out large doses, this just _had_ to be the one The Brotherhood decided to shoot some hoops.

"No particular reason," Pietro said, falling into step with Scott. "Just wanted to deliver a message to Rogue. From Mystique," He gave a satisfied smirk when he saw the rise in Scott's eyebrows. "But since she's not here, I guess you can give it to her,"

Scott grunted a reply as he continued to walk.

"Good," said Pietro, his features suddenly turning serious. "Tell Rogue that Mystique wants her to quit this stupidity that she's trying to do. Her power is a rare gift, and it would be nothing short of futility to try and change her destiny. Got that Summers?"

The man in question stopped dead in his tracks. "How did you find out about that?" he asked his voice dead serious. Was The Brotherhood _really_ spying on them?

"We have our ways," Pietro replied. "Just be sure to give Rogue the message or Mystique will be forced to make an appearance. And we all know how messy that gets,"

Scott was left to stare at the spot Pietro was standing on. He was gone even before the last word reached Scott's ears. Scott looked at the basketball court, now occupied by the three male members of Magneto's Brotherhood.

He sighed and went inside the high school, still pondering _how_ exactly the others knew about it. All the students inside the Institute didn't even know yet, as the Professor requested all the people involved to keep it to themselves, and the Brotherhood already knew? How did that happen?

Does that mean that Magneto already knew of Warren's unexpected visit at the Institution? Scott groaned. He really wasn't in the in the mood for another one of those brawls, and knowing Lance Alver's temper, he would be all too glad for another fight.

Scott found his Physics classroom and wasn't surprised to find it devoid of any living creature. He sat down at the very back of the room and stared outside the window, his head propped up by his hand. The view, thankfully, wasn't of Lance and the others playing basketball, but of the picnic tables under the trees.

He smiled to himself when he saw two of the younger teachers approach one of the tables and sit down. He recognized the male one to be his Logic professor, Mr. Douglas, and the other one was the new female teacher.

The girl teacher propped up a book and started to read, while Scott's Logic teacher opened up a bag of, presumably, their breakfast.

Scott didn't know that there was a love story between those two. But when Mr. Doug looked up at his female friend, an image, not unlike the one he was seeing right now, popped into Scott Summer's mind.

It seemed so long ago, when they first met. He hated to be like this but he couldn't quite stop himself.

_Kate_.

tbc


	6. chapter 6

**author's notes: **sorry for the long wait. i've no excuses. you're right. i should be maimed, tortured and killed. -- sorry.

6/13

After a few minutes of staring at the two young teachers outside, the bell finally rang and Scott was forced to pry his eyes away from the scene. The Physics teacher, Mr. Bennett, decided to make an early entrance and Scott would have paid anything to capture the look on the teacher's face on film when he saw that a _student_ was actually early to school.

The entrance of the rest of the students saved the two of them from engaging in painful small talk.

Jean sat with Duncan of course, and Scott was left alone for the rest of the period to doodle on his notebook. After a hectic morning like that, Scott figured that he owed it to himself to relax a bit and just copy Jean's notes later on.

The bell rang and ended their Physics period and started the Economics one. The woman-teacher started the class by saying that every politician is evil incarnate, and therefore should never be trusted. Needless to say, Scott quickly tuned _her_ out.

Before he even knew it, his feet were leading him to the Drama classroom. He only noticed that little fact when Rogue fell into step with him, wearing a huge smile.

"Hey," he greeted, completely forgetting his bad mood. "What's up?"

"Nothing much," she replied, her eyes still glazed over. "You know that Warren's a wonderful driver? And a swimmer, and a cook? I never would have guessed, you know, because he seems too classy to _actually_ know anything. But he does, and he proved me wrong,"

Scott's smile quickly turned to a grimace. He should have known that she would only be talking about Warren. "Mystique wants me to deliver a message for you," he said bluntly. Rogue's mood was quickly dampened at the mention of Mystique's name. Scott hated to admit it, but he did have the guilty pleasure of _enjoying_ the fact that Rogue wasn't ranting about Warren anymore.

"What was it?" she asked as they entered the classroom. Scott wasn't that surprised to find that he _actually_ missed the twang in her voice. "What does she want this time?"

Scott took the liberty of staying quiet until they found their seats. She sat besides him, her eyes prodding him to go on. Scott liked the attention she was giving him, and he was going to milk it as much as he can. It reminded him of the time before the whole experiment thing --and before Warren-- had taken place.

Scott opened his mouth to reply, slowly, of course but the Drama teacher had entered the room, commanding the students to be quiet. He started the class, and Scott was somewhat thankful that he had an excuse to hold Rogue's attention longer.

Throughout the period, as the teacher droned on about Shakespeare, Rogue kept pelting Scott with notes that contained questions about the message, but Scott didn't reply. He was actually astounded at the self-control that Rogue showed by not bombarding him with questions inside his mind.

Soon enough, the lunch bell rang and Scott was forced to talk.

"Well," he started. "Mystique said that you should stop with the experiment," Scott went on, when he saw that look of surprise on her face. "I don't know how they found out either, but they do,"

After a few seconds, Rogue finally replied. "Why does she think that she owns me?" The bitterness in her voice wasn't drowned out by the noise of the hungry students on their way to the cafeteria. But her scowl didn't last long. Her face broke into one of those huge smiles that she seemed to be always carrying these days as she spotted something at one of the tables. Scott followed her gaze and saw _Warren_ reading the newspaper. Rogue's feet seemed to be moving out of her own accord, but of course, Scott saw that Rogue was far from complaining.

Pretty soon, Scott was in the lunch line all alone and frustrated. Didn't the school have some kind of policy against strangers entering the premises? Of course, he wouldn't put it past the principal to be blinded by cash; everybody these days seemed to be in desperate want of it.

So Scott Summers, holding his lunch tray, stood at the end of the line, looking for a table to sit on. He immediately saw Jean's red hair, but her table was out of the question; she was with the popular kids. He then looked for Evan and the others, but after a few moments of the futile search, he came to the conclusion that they must have eaten outside.

His line of gaze then fell onto Rogue and Warren's table, where they seemed to be chatting. Again. Really, all they ever seemed to do these days was talk, talk, talk and talk.

With a grunt, Scott started to head outside. He didn't think he could down anything with _them_ in the same room.

He hadn't taken three steps before Pietro was on his side for the nth time for the day.

"Got a table, chap?" he asked. It was of no surprise that he didn't get a response. Scott just continued on walking towards the benches outside. "Oh, okay, we'll do this outside then,"

As they reached the picnic tables, and as Scott was about to head for a vacant one, Pietro blurred by him and took his lunch tray. The next place Scott saw him was in the nearest picnic table, which was occupied by the Brotherhood.

With a groan, Scott walked over to retrieve his lunch.

"Glad you could join us, Summers," Lance greeted, a somewhat malicious smile played on his lips.

"What do you guys want?" Scott asked, irritated.

"Just for you to take a seat," Pietro replied breezily as he sat.

"And some of your lunch," Toad added, slightly ruining the seriousness of the conversation. Without Scott's permission, Toad's abnormally long and slimy tongue shot out and grabbed an apple from the tray.

"Fine," Scott said with a grimace as he sat down. He didn't think he wanted his lunch anymore.

"So Summers," Lance started. "Who's the dude hanging out with Rogue?"

Scott didn't respond; he had a nasty feeling that they already knew about Warren. After all, they already knew about Rogue's experiment, didn't they? He grabbed a handful of french-fries and shoved them to his mouth savagely, therefore missing the smug smirks that were exchanged in the Brotherhood members.

"Ooh, this is interesting," Pietro said as he rubbed his hands together.

Scott shot him a glare.

"To be frank with you Summers," Lance said, before Scott could open his mouth to talk. "It looks a hell like you're jealous of that Blondie over there,"

"No I'm not," Scott said quickly. That was such a stupid thing that he wasn't the tiniest bit surprised that it actually came from Lance Alvers.

"Right," Toad said, gulping the contents of Scott's milk carton in one gulp, without permission, of course.

Scott jumped when Lance actually draped an arm around his shoulder. Pietro steadied his head in such an angle that Rogue and Warren's chatting figures were directly in his line of sight.

"And that," Lance said, pointing at the figures, his breath tickling Scott's ear. Rogue laughed at something that Warren said. "_That_ doesn't bother you at all?"

Scott didn't know if he was irritated at the arrogant tone of Lance's voice or if he was irritated with what he just saw. He tried to move away from the two holding him captive, tried to shake his head at the very least, but they had a firmer grip than he anticipated. With a frustrated sigh, he sagged and looked up again at the couple.

He didn't know how long he was staring at the figures through the glass windows, but he was snapped back to reality by Lance and Pietro's guffaws. Toad, he noticed, was too busy finishing his sandwich.

"You should have seen the look on your face!" Pietro all but shouted, letting o of Scott's head in accordance to Lance's movements. Pietro then doubled over in laughter.

"Yeah," Lance said quite evilly, a smirk forming in his features. "This _is _interesting,"

Scott's right hand reached for his shades, an action of pure irritation and anger, forgetting that he wasn't wearing his visor. He stood up violently and slammed his hands on the plastic table, frustrated that he couldn't even use his powers to eradicate these insects. "Just what the hell are you talking about? I'm not jealous, _JEALOUS_, of all things, of Rogue and Warren over there, okay? You don't know a thing about what you're talking about so just shut up! And stop spying on the Institute!"

He didn't quite notice the stares that he had attracted with his little outburst. They, the Brotherhood, just laughed contentedly and with a frustrated sigh, Scott turned his back to them and walked inside the gates of the school.

"What happened to the cool and calm Summers that we all had grown to love?" Toad asked his retreating back, his voice all the more mocking because of the tone of laughter.

"That anal Summers is out, Toad," Lance shouted. Scott knew that people were already listening to their every word. "This new Summers is in love!"

The three burst out on another round of laughter, the sound coinciding with the furious whispers that exploded around the area.

Someday, Scott thought angrily as he pushed open the gates, someday, he _will_ kill those three.

tbc


	7. chapter 7

7/13

Scott Summers trudged up the stairs that led to his room, dragging all of his body weight along the plush carpet. Great. He should have known that such a bad start of the day would and only lead to something much worse.

Traffic was terrible, he didn't know _where_ exactly all the cars came from, but he knew where they were headed: to the Bayville Mall. He heard Kitty squealing something about some kind of a sale. It took him thirty minutes more than normal just to get back to the mansion. And before that, he actually _failed_ a quiz in Trigonometry. Granted, it was a pop quiz but it was Trigonometry. Trigonometry . . .!

He was banged his door open, dropped down his things down the floor haphazardly, took off his shoes and plopped down the bed face down. He had just closed his eyes, preparing to nap when the Professor's voice rang inside his head.

_Scott, Rogue, Warren, Hank has the new serum prepared and he'd like to test it as soon as possible. The Med. Lab, if you please, -_

Scott groaned, the sound muffled by his pillow.

The Med. Lab now? And with Warren, nonetheless. He really wasn't in the mood to be Rogue's guinea pig this afternoon, thanks very much. He has lots of things to do, like staring at nothing all day after all. Didn't they know that?

But then again, he really wanted to be there for Rogue for this. _This_ might just break or make her. He felt like he should be there just for support, just like he was there for her way back when Warren wasn't staying here. She had trusted him after all, and that had formed some kind of a bond that somehow made him feel required to be there for her.

With a frustrated sigh frustrated at what, he didn't know exactly, he pushed himself off the bed and walked towards the Med. Lab., thinking whether this new batch would work or not. A part of him wanted it to work, just for Rogue's sake. And a slightly bigger part of him wanted it to fail. If the serum failed, and the other X-men reacted the way Rogue had predicted . . . he didn't think that he could look at the world the same way again.

Plus, he really couldn't see the Institute without her, even if she had only stayed here for a short amount of time. Those light chats that they had, the sports matches, he knew he'll miss them. He didn't want to admit it out loud, but he really felt flattered and proud that he was one of the few people that Rogue had chosen to show her smile to. That smile that makes her seem younger and far less problematic. He knew that if she leaves, he'll miss that smile the most.

It just hit him. He had made a friend out of Rogue without him even knowing it. They had become close without him noticing. He actually got close to the resident Goth. He didn't exactly know what to say to that.

When the doors to the Lab. slid open, he immediately found Rogue seated at one of the metal tables with Warren at her side, his hands on her shoulders to show support.

"Ah, Scott," Dr. Mcoy greeted as he emerged from the storeroom. He was already holding the syringe. "Just in time," He walked over to Rogue and Warren stepped back. He looked at her in the eye and raised his eyebrows. Are you ready? It was a question that needn't be voiced out loud.

Rouge took a deep breath and nodded.

Hank Mcoy dabbed an area on her forearm with a piece of cotton soaked in alcohol and injected the needle and pushed on the syringe ever so slowly. He waited for a while. Scott could visibly see that Rogue was holding her breath.

He walked a few paces towards the table, ready to ask the unvoiced question that hung in the air. But Warren beat him to it.

"Did it work?"

Scott stood frozen on his spot.

"I don't know," Hank replied, his voice sounding tired. He massaged the bridge of his nose. "It all comes down to one thing. Rogue?"

She refused to look up at anybody.

Scott stepped forward once again. "I'll--"

Without warning, Warren suddenly took off his leather gloves and touched Rogue's cheek gently. She looked up sharply and turned her head away but Warren's hand followed her movements.

Seconds passed.

Her eyes grew wide when it finally registered that nothing was happening. Her lips slowly formed a huge smile. She jumped from the bed and hugged Warren. Amazingly, not even the barest of the smallest squeals escaped her.

The words died in Scott's throat at the obvious display of affection. He felt like he had just been punched in the gut, and all the wind was knocked out of him. No, not just the wind, _everything_. He didn't know why he suddenly felt hollow.

"I think we've got it," Hank said with a satisfied smile. "Of course, I'll need to take some blood samples to see if it really did work, so I need you to stay awhile,"

Rogue didn't seem to be listening. She seemed to be crying onto Warren's shoulders and he was patting her back and was muttering some well-chosen words that Scott would never have thought of if he were under the same circumstance.

"Congratulations," Scott muttered mechanically to no one as he made his way out of the Med. Lab.

No one really noticed the sliding doors closing after him.

tbc


	8. chapter 8

8/13

She didn't have her powers anymore. Rogue's powers were gone. She's . . . normal. Just like everybody else out there.

Scott stared at the ceiling of his room. It had been a week since Rogue's . . . normality, and Scott couldn't just get used to it. And he had no idea why.

It's not like he wasn't happy for her, no. Of course he was. Rogue was happy and since he was her friend, well, it just goes that way. He felt that he had somehow lost some kind of a bond that he shared with her.

It was a widely known fact that they had those talks, the ones that got him a pat on the back from the Professor, for getting the Goth to actually talk. They mostly talked about their powers, but sometimes they went for the normal stuff. The stuff that normal people talked about.

And now she's one of them. One of the normal people.

Scott Summers got out of his bed and walked out of his room. He didn't know what time it was but he knew that it must have been a little bit before dawn because the mansion was all but dead. There were no lights left on, no sound left on the corridors.

Except for one familiar room. He was actually surprised that his feet had led him here, of all places, without him really acknowledging it. Yes, Scott Summers was once again standing by the kitchen entrance. He figured that since he was already here, maybe a glass of milk, warm or otherwise, just might do the trick of making him sleep.

He walked inside, and wasn't that surprised to find the one person plaguing his mind seated at the marble counters once again. Just like before, only this time, Scott felt that everything was different.

"Cyke," she greeted.

He didn't reply. He just stood there, studying her features. She was still wearing an oversized shirt, the exact color unknown to him and just like that night way back when, and she wasn't wearing the make-up that hid her young face from all the people surrounding her.

She shifted under his gaze. "I got some ice cream," she started. "Want to eat it with me?" She jumped down from the marble counters and took a seat at one of the stools.

Scott blinked and slowly smiled. Yes, maybe this would be just like the old times. He walked over to the cutlery drawers, got another spoon and walked over to the counter and sat on the stool that sat beside her. "I'd like that,"

Silence. He couldn't really label it to be awkward, but it wasn't the comfortable silence that they once had either. It was in the air, the change that had transpired.

"So," he started. He really wasn't eating the ice cream, just playing with it using his spoon. "Long time no talk,"

"Yeah," she replied. "We haven't really had that much of a chance to talk ever since--"

"Ever since you became normal," he finished hastily for her.

"Yeah,"

Silence, and this time, it really was awkward.

"So," he began, grasping at straws to dissipate the silence. "How does it feel?"

It took a while before she actually replied. "It's . . . nice."

"That's it?" he asked, his voice raising a notch or two. "You've pined for this ever since your powers kicked in and 'it's nice'? That's it? All that work and 'it's nice'?"

She suddenly reached out and touched his hand. He jerked away, initially, but remembered that she didn't possess the power to hurt him, or anyone for that matter, anymore. He relaxed and she turned his hand over, palm side up.

"Yes," she said slowly, her face lighting up with a smile, as she traced the lines on his hand. "It's nice,"

Scott Summers privately agreed. So that's what Rogue's hand felt like. It was still smooth, somewhat surprisingly, since it was encased in rough leather glove for who knows how long. Scott relaxed even more when she stood up and both of her hands traveled upwards to touch his face. He didn't even notice that he was smiling.

He closed his eyes as Rogue's pale hands touched the contours of his neck and face. Her hands traced his jaw, his lips, his cheeks, and for some reason, took particular notice of his nose. She took off his ruby shades and he didn't even find himself protesting. Her hands went over his eyes slowly.

"You have nice eyelashes," she breathed. "Just like Warren's,"

And like a bucket of ice-cold water, those three words ruined it all. Whatever _it_ was, it was gone. Scott jerked out of Rogue's gentle touch and quickly reached for his sunglasses. He put them on quickly, stood up and walked away from the marble counters.

Why can't she just have one conversation with him where Warren doesn't come up? Is she really that much in love with him that she just can't help but talk about him? Scott can still feel the warmth of Rogue's hands on his cheeks. He regretted pulling away from her touch, but he really couldn't take the fact that she had compared him to Warren. He didn't know why, but that really irked him. It really, really did.

"What's wrong?" she asked meekly, after a few seconds of awkward silence had passed.

It took a while before he looked at her and when he finally did, he noticed that the color of her cheeks was uneven. Was she blushing? "Nothing," he said, his voice low because he was fighting to keep it controlled and even. "It's just that--"

"Just what?"

"Can't you just have one freaking conversation with me that doesn't involve Warren?" he asked, his voice rising even thought he tried his best to prevent it. "I mean, I know that you're in love with the guy, but one, just one--"

"What?" she asked, her voice rising up to meet his. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh come on, Rogue!" he shouted. He didn't care anymore; he just needed to say this, even if he woke up the whole mansion in the process. "Everybody in this place knows about it! And why wouldn't you like him, right? He's perfect, for goodness' sake!"

Rogue glared at him.

And since Rogue wasn't doing anything to stop him, he continued on his rant. "I mean, who wouldn't want to date multi-millionaire handsome gentleman such as Warren, right? Compared to me, your old friend, the one who was there for you way back when, it really wasn't such a difficult choice, now was it?"

Rogue opened her mouth to retaliate but Scott beat her to it.

"I don't get you, you know," he said, crossing his arms and scoffing. "I thought that you were my friend. Hell, I even thought that we could be more than that! But what did you do? A handsome guy comes along and you drop me off!"

"Well if you're acting like this, can you seriously blame me?" Rogue screamed at him. "God! How immature can you get? First of all, I didn't _drop_ you for Warren. I just hung out with him because all of you were treating me like glass! You all pitied me! Now if you knew anything, anything at all, about me, then you'd know that I hated that! And you have the guts to call yourself my friend!"

"I am you friend!" Scott yelled, his face a few inches from hers.

"Well what a good way of showing it! Screaming and blowing at my face like this! Warren was nothing but nice to me, you know. He'd been there when you were all shying away, and he was with me when I took the serum--"

"I was there too! You were just too busy acting all lovey-dovey with the guy to notice! Oh, and speaking of public displays of affection, what _do _you guys talk about anyway? You do nothing but talk!"

"Why does that bother you so much?" she asked, surprising him as her voice grew a few notches softer.

Somewhere, somehow, Scott Summers knew the answer to her question, but he really couldn't find the guts to voice it out. He turned his face away and crossed his arms.

"Aren't you glad that I have someone to talk to? That I actually am opening up to somebody?"

After contemplating on his answer, Scott Summers turned to face her and meet her eyes. "I thought that you had that with me," he said quietly. And just like that, all of the things that they had been through, all of their experiences together came crashing down. And even though it didn't exactly register at that moment, the image of them being closer and maybe becoming something more, shattered to pieces.

Rogue's face looked bore the expression of surprise. She opened her mouth to apparently say something but nothing came out. Scott shook his head and turned around. He walked out of the kitchen.

tbc


	9. chapter 9

9/13

Scott Summers smashed down the irritating beep of his beaten up alarm clock the next morning. If he kept on hitting the poor thing day after day like this, he'd be needing a new one soon. After the commotion at the kitchen, he stomped up back to his room and tried to sleep but found out that he couldn't stop thinking about the argument. The scene played over and over in his head, his mind conjuring up ways of how it could've gone better.

He got out of bed, very much aware of the fact that he probably looked like shit. He got dressed, not bothering to fix the mess that was his hair. What was the point anyway? If he was feeling like a huge ass, might as well inform the people around him, right?

He went downstairs with every intention to make a run for his car. He wasn't hungry and he didn't want to visit the scene of the crime so soon. He didn't feel like talking with anyone in the mansion either.

"Scott!" somebody called from behind him. Swallowing down a groan, he turned to look at Kitty. "Like, hello? Where are you going?"

He didn't bother speaking out vocally, and just nodded his head in the general direction of the door that led outside.

She looked shock at his state of disarray. "What happened to you? Did you, like, hit a storm on you way downstairs? Did Miss Monroe get angry for some reason--?"

_If looks could kill,_ Scott thought savagely. Patience was not with him today. "_Kitty_," he spat out through his teeth.

She seemed to have heard the urgency and seriousness of his voice. She gulped visibly and cracked a nervous smile. "Yeah, well, I was just here to remind you that it's, like, your turn to do the dishes today, that's all,"

Scott rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly. Of all the days.

"But if you want, I could, like, do it for you--" Kitty said hastily, her voice full of concern. Scott had a feeling that she would have patted him on the back if only she weren't scared of him.

"No," he replied with a sigh. "No, it's okay, Kitty. It wouldn't be fair to you. I'll do it," he tried to give her a smile but from her facial expression, it mustn't have turned out too good. She ran off to the other direction with a wave of goodbye as Scott Summers trudged to the kitchens. For the second time in twelve hours. Yes, Lady Luck loved him indeed.

As soon as he stepped inside the room, every conversation grounded to a halt. Every pair of eyes turned to look at him and he knew it would only be a matter of seconds before everybody bombarded him with questions about his health.

With his chin held up high, he walked over to the table, being very careful to avoid the marble countertop that had caused him so much trouble, and took a seat. He noted that Rogue and _Warren_ weren't in the room. "Don't ask," he said as an answer to their unvoiced questions. He folded his arms to the table and rested his head upon them.

"Well I thought that maybe we could go to the mall this afternoon--" Scott heard someone say. Without lifting his head, he deduced that as Warren walked in the room, the others' attention wasn't on him anymore.

After a somewhat long pause, Scott heard Rogue's voice. "Warren, I'm sorry, I'm just not feeling that well today. And I'm not very hungry right now either," Scott knew that she had looked his form at the table while she said this. He _felt_ the glare shot at the top of his head. "I'll meet you later, 'cause I have to meet Risty right now. Bye,"

Sound of footsteps faded as the chatter picked up once again.

Only then did Scott look up and watched his housemates pile up food upon their plates. He would've done the same, if not for the fact that he wasn't very hungry. If he forced himself to eat at this state, he'll probably just throw it all up. He stayed seated as his housemates stood up one by one to ready their things for school. Nobody was riding with him, that much he knew; thanks to the fact that ever since Warren came to the Institute, he came to school alone.

Once everybody had vacated their respective seats at the dining table, Scott stood up and went to the sink. It was a shock that he didn't break any of the dishes since his mind was flying off to every direction possible. Granted, he knew that it wasn't his best work, but at his current state of mess, it's do-able.

From the kitchen sink, he went directly to his car, thanking the heavens that nobody was around to bother him anymore. He just hoped --though the way things were going, it really was just wishful thinking-- that his solitude would be protected still, even at school.

His body worked mechanically, from putting the key into the ignition slot, down to the driving, to the parking and then to the walking into Physics class. He supposed that he was a little too full of himself though; only a few people had looked at him weirdly, with his state of disarray and all. Nobody cared that much about him, and for once, he was very much thankful for the cruelty provided by the high school laws of nature.

He took his seat, barely making the bell and walking in just a few moments before Mr. Bennett did. Scott noticed that the teacher was unusually perky today; an observation that he found annoying.

He shook the feeling of aggravation off, knowing that it wasn't fair of him to be irked at people for no reason at all, even if they were teachers. He forced himself to take down notes, wary of the fact that Mr. Bennett was one of those compulsive teachers who had the reputation of handing out pop quizzes at the drop of a hat. Besides, he needed something to distract him from thinking of Rogue.

The bell rang and thankfully, the dreaded pop quiz was never given out. It just seemed that the teacher was happy, that was all, and Scott just had to wonder why. Generally, the teachers in Bayville were somewhat bleak and glum most of the time.

He rolled his eyes at himself as he walked down to Economics. God, just how spinster-like was he being? It was none of his business, really, and he shouldn't care about the whole thing. He sat down and his eyes unconsciously darted to the wall clock necessary in every classroom, and he remembered that in one hour, he would be seeing Rogue again.

For some reason, his something in his stomach plummeted at the thought. It's not that he was scared of her, well, not much anyways. He's seen her angry before, yes, many times, but those sentiments weren't directed _at_ him so he was considerably safer back then than he is now.

Scott Summers barely noticed the lady-teacher enter the room. He just sat there, staring at the board, past the instructor--who, by the way, always gave out announced tests--, and thought about his nearing encounter with Rogue. He didn't feel guilty about the whole situation, nope, not at all.

Okay, so just a little bit guilty. But it's not like it was his fault, right? Why should he be the one to feel guilty when she was the one who replaced him with Warren? Okay, so maybe he _was_ a little wary around her after the first experiment, but it wasn't like he was walking on eggshells or something. Right? Right!

Scott shifted his line of vision from the board to the door. It was flesh-colored, a color that was supposed to be soothing. Maybe it can help calm him down, perhaps?

And just as he was staring, the unmistakable brunette hair of Lance Alvers passed by the small window. As if he felt his stare, Lance looked directly inside the room and straight _at_ him. And he grinned widely through the small opening, mouthed the words 'lover boy' and disappeared, probably to have a good laugh at Scott's expense.

Gritting his teeth, he turned his attention to his book.

They are such brain dead losers to still think that he's in love with Rogue. It must be the combination of lack of food and Toad's indefinable smell in that place they call their house.

Just because he's a bit protective of her doesn't mean that he's in love. And so what if he likes to talk to her? She just happens to be a very interesting conversationalist, that's all. And this _feeling_ of hostility towards Warren has absolutely nothing to do with her. He's just very much jealous of his car.

Yes, that was it, _his car_.

Rogue's not even that pretty anyway, when one thinks about it. She's always too pale and her choice of make-up's always too gloomy for the Institute. Given, it might be because of her powers, but still, it's nevertheless too gloomy. And her clothes? For someone who had the curse of not being able to touch, she does show a whole lot of skin. Not that Scott was looking, of course not! It was just one of his observations.

And even if he _were_ staring, it means absolutely nothing because he likes Jean. Yes, he likes Jean _that_ way. Jean who has that beautiful red hair, the same Jean whose smile used to make him weak in the knees. His conscience reminded him of the Jean that already has a boyfriend and the same one whom he's just realized that he hasn't thought of in weeks.

Not that any of it has anything to do with Rogue though, of course not.

And just as the bell rang to signal the end of class, Lance's voice rang clearly inside his head.

'_This Summers is in love!_'

With a defeated sigh, he made his way out of the room thinking that maybe, just maybe, he might take into consideration thinking over his feelings for Rogue. After all, another day like this would drive him crazy.

tbc


	10. chapter 10

**A/N**: as usual, i've no excuse. but i do promise that the regular schedule of updates for this fic will be back. three more chapters, people!

10/13

Scott Summers and Rogue still weren't talking. A fact proved by the way that she had turned her head as far as she could from his general direction this morning at Drama class. A few of the kids at the Institute noticed, but no one really approached him for it. After the blur of a day that he had at school, he was already seriously contemplating upon ending the whole argument by apologizing to her. Sure, it wasn't _technically_ his fault but it would be the gentlemanly thing to do, wouldn't it?

And about his feelings? He'd rather think that over much, much later.

He parked his car at the garage and went straight up to his room. He put his school bag down next to the door. His bed looked tempting, but he needed a place to think where he wouldn't fall asleep. The chair in front of his study table seemed to be an obvious choice.

Now, how was he about to go through this apology thing? Obviously, the best strategic way was to corner Rogue somewhere in the mansion--assuming that she's already in--and talk to her. Preferably she needs to be alone. Scott really didn't want to say sorry in front of Warren. Or anybody else, for that matter.

He sighed and leaned on his computer table. Warren. Was he being ridiculously out of line to see Warren as a threat? Was he being excessively paranoid to think that Warren's stolen Rogue away from him? Not that Rogue's a piece of property of sorts, of course not. Okay, so Warren seems to be a nice guy. Rogue likes him, right? That's got to amount to something, right?

And with that, Scott Summers decided to give Warren Worthington III the chance that he never gave him. He was going to try to befriend him even if it killed him.

Now that that was done with, he needed to think of the words to say for an apology. Somehow he didn't think that 'Sorry for acting like an ass' would quite cut it. Knowing Rogue, she just might agree with him being an ass and walk away. And this _was_ Rogue that he was apologizing to, so the sugary words other girls loved were definitely out of the question. But how could one ask for forgiveness to a girl without using sweet words and still sound sincere?

After at least an hour of contemplating and staring at the peeling paint on his ceiling, he decided to go down the stairs, to the Rec. Room where the television sat. Nobody was quite in yet so the TV was his for the taking. If he were to approach Rogue at her current state of anger at him, he'd need all the relaxation he could get.

The house was silent and devoid of people. They were all probably out, partying somewhere. He flipped on the screen for a couple of minutes, and then decided on an old black and white film. As he settled down on his usual spot on the couch, one Jean Grey walked in.

"Oh, hi Scott," she greeted, a big smile already forming in her lips. She walked over to him, dropped her bag right beside the couch and sat down with him.

He smiled at her in return. Exactly what he needed. This was _Jean_, the girl who made the butterflies in his stomach go on hyper drive.

"Long time no talk, huh?" she asked, her voice floating through the air of the room.

"Hmm, what? Oh yeah. Well, you know, school's been crazy these days,"

Silence passed. It was somewhat awkward, and he wanted nothing more than to break it. But, as these things usually went, he found nothing significant enough to say to her. He can't very well talk to her about Rogue; he wasn't as blind as they thought him to be after all. Even he could sense the enrooted tension between the two. And he can't talk to her about Warren, and he definitely _can't_ open up a conversation with her about Duncan.

She must've sensed it too, the awkwardness, because she cleared her throat uncomfortably for a couple of times.

Since when did this happen? Usually he would've jumped at any chance to talk to her, the girl of his dreams, about anything at all. But now . . . he couldn't explain it, but he somehow he can't find anything to say to her. And that tiny little factoid didn't even bother him at all.

After what seemed like hours of silence, Scott finally cleared his throat and decided that perhaps this wasn't the best of times to have a conversation with Jean. After all, he did have something to attend to. "Have you seen Rogue?"

She looked a bit taken aback by his question, her emotions betrayed by the sudden rising of her eyebrows. "Oh, uhm . . . I haven't really seen her, but you know, maybe she's out shopping with Warren or something."

Scott settled his attention to the television once again. "Yeah, probably. With Warren."

"Why? She'll be back you know. She's probably just shopping for more winter clothes."

He looked up at her. "What? Winter clothes? But winter's just passed, why would she need some more clothes?"

A sudden look of realization dawned upon her face. "Didn't you know?"

"Know what?"

"About the trip."

"What trip?"

Jean's eyes widened some more. "Huh. How weird. I thought that since you and  
Rogue talked all the time, she would've mentioned it to you. Apparently not…" she trailed on, seemingly lost in thought.

Through rather gritted teeth, he managed to ask, "Jean, what trip?"

"The trip to Europe." Seeing the still-puzzled look on his face, she went on. "The trip to Europe to one of the Worthington Estates there."

Scott was speechless. And in another minute, he would be enraged. "What?"

"Yeah, I was there in the Professor's room when Warren asked for permission to take Rogue to Europe. He said he wanted her to meet his family or something like that. Isn't she quite lucky?"

"For how long? Did Warren say for how long?"

Jean looked thoughtful. "Uhm . . .I'm not really sure, but I'm supposing it's for an indefinite amount of time. It _is _Europe after all; it's not somewhere that can be toured in just a week. Scott, are you okay? You're a little pale."

He shrugged off the hand that she offered to him. "The Professor. Surely he didn't approve of all these? An indefinite amount of time is too long and she's still has to go to school, right?"

She gave him this weird look, apparently not knowing what to think of his reaction. "I don't know, I think he's already agreed to it. He said that when it comes down to it, it's still all Rogue's decision. Scott?"

Her voice went unnoticed because Scott stood up and walked out of the Rec. Room, with an unreadable expression in his face.

"Weird," Jean thought, taking another glance at the now forgotten monochromatic film. "I'd have thought that he'd be happy for her."

tbc


	11. chapter 11

11/13

Rogue's leaving. She's actually leaving the Institute. For good. It's already been a week but the thought of what Jean had said still hasn't sunk in. It's just not possible. Heck, it's not even plausible. What would become of the Institute without her? And what's to become of the X-men without their resident Goth around?

It was the one thought that had been plaguing his mind almost all the nights of the past week. People were starting to look a little longer at the bags under his eyes that peeked through his shades but only Kurt had asked him about it.

He glanced at his now worn bedside clock. A little past midnight. If this had happened a month ago, he would've tried his very best to fall asleep at once. He did still have to attend school, right?

But these past few weeks he didn't really care that much. He knew that he was doing well in school, even though he was now very much sleep deprived. And tomorrow would be different so he could sleep in late. Some of the Brotherhood got a little too rowdy the other day and now the whole Science wing of the school had to be rebuilt. He wasn't thankful that they did it, but rather he was thankful for the fact that the whole thing had happened.

With a somewhat desolate sigh, he got up, grabbed his robes and walked out of his room. This time he knew exactly where he was going, very much unlike the last time he went there. Subconsciously he wondered if Rogue was there now, eating some more ice cream that did nothing to her well-toned figure. He hoped that she was.

A sad smile formed at his lips when he saw that the lights were out but he still went inside the room anyway. He wasn't very much hungry, even though he didn't eat much at dinner, but he needed to something to warm his stomach. And no, he was absolutely in no mood for ice cream.

Without turning the lights on, he walked to where the fridge stood and grabbed a carton of milk. He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and poured himself a drink. The cold fluid was a shock to his nearly empty stomach, and it did nothing to get him to dreamland.

He trudged over to the stools, sat down and looked at Rogue's usual seat at the table. He remembered that it was only two days ago that he heard their conversation.

It was a little over the middle of the afternoon and he went inside the kitchen to treat himself to some sweets for finishing his homework early when he walked in on them talking. He stopped at the arch that separated the kitchens from the main hall and stared at them. It was an important conversation, he knew that much from the tone of Warren's voice, and he never intended to eavesdrop. But when he heard what he was saying to his Rogue, he really couldn't pull himself away.

"But Rogue," he started, his hands moving to one of her shoulders.

"Warren, I said I'll think about it," she replied, her voice giving way to the tone of hesitation. In her face was etched the look of confusion.

"I know," he sighed. " I just wanted to take you away from all of this."

"All of what?"

He gestured to the expanse of the room. "_This_. All these trainings and these brawls with Magneto and the Brotherhood isn't healthy for anyone, let alone a teenager,"

"But I love it here. This is my home. Everybody's sort of turned into my family-like figures,"

"I want you to meet _my_ family, Rogue. It'd mean so much to me, you know," he said, his voice coaxing and flashed her one of his smiles. "I just know that they'd love you,"

At this point, Scott unconsciously gritted his teeth, wanting very much to punch Warren. He then realized just what he was doing. Was this what he was reduced to: eavesdropping and sneaking around?

He sucked in his gut, held his head up and strode inside the kitchens, purposely disrupting their conversation. He walked briskly towards the cookie jar and took out a piece. He felt both of their eyes watching him.

"I'll think about it, Warren," he heard her say in a somewhat hushed voice.

"Please hurry," Warren replied. "I leave the United States the next week."

"Thank God for that," Scott muttered loudly, walking away from the room. He felt Rogue's glare that was shot towards his head.

"You know what, Warren?" she said loudly, obviously not wanting Scott to miss any of her words. "I don't need anymore time to think about it. I've made up my mind about the whole thing."

Scott Summers wanted nothing more than to hear what she had to say about the matter, but his pride wouldn't let his feet stop walking. He, however, slowed his pace down.

"I'm coming with you," she said resolutely.

Squashing down the urge to stomp his way back to the kitchens and slap Rogue silly for her obviously silly decision, he inhaled sharply and focused his whole mind into getting back to his room in one piece. He didn't even notice the cookie that he was holding dropped in the middle of the carpet as he walked up the stairs.

"You won't regret this!" he heard Warren say from inside the room that he'd just been in.

He sincerely hoped that she would.

And that was what had happened two days ago. He spent the whole day after that telling himself that Rogue wouldn't really leave the Institute, that she was probably telling Warren that she was backing out right at _that_ moment, that she wouldn't really dare leave the very people that she relied on and loved behind. He was very confident in this claim that he didn't worry about her leaving at all. She couldn't very well leave _him_ behind, now could she? Of course not.

That was, until he saw her dragging out Jean's large suitcase across the hall to his room the earlier that night. The memory of the sight of her heaving that thing caused her to have thoughts about the amount of clothes that could fit inside Jean's suitcase, which led to the question of how long exactly she will be gone?

She couldn't possibly be going to _live_ in Europe, could she? The mere thought of it made Scott's fair complexion pale in the darkness of the unlit kitchen.

His heartbeat was erratic; not once did he ever consider the possibility of Rogue --Rogue!-- never coming back to the Institute? Was that what Warren was asking of her? And she agreed with him . . .?

He shook his head. It was impossible. She would _never_ leave them permanently. Honestly, what was she supposed to do in Europe?

_How about live in the lap of luxury, Worthington style?_

Images of her flashed into his mind. Rogue the first time he saw her clearly, her smiling at him for the first time, her laughing quietly at something that Evan had said, and finally, a vision of her heaving, her face flushed and sweaty from playing racquetball too hard with him.

The image that stuck inside his head was the one of her giving him his latest Christmas present. He noticed back then that her cheeks were a bit on the dark side, and the smile that she was sporting was a shy one.

The mere thought of him not having complete access to that face, to those smiles made his heart clench. Maybe Lance was right; maybe he _was _in love with Rogue. How could one not be? She's very beautiful, very kind and very, very mysterious. It was very easy to fall for her, so easy in fact that he did it without him knowing it.

He hit his head lightly with his hands. How could he have not known? Why did it take him this long to figure it out? What was the reason for his obstinacy? Did he not see the signs that littered the path? What was wrong with him?

And most important of all, why hasn't he talked to Rogue yet? He needed to tell her his realizations, the ones that lifted off a heavy burden from his chest.

And with that thought in mind, he resolutely marched up to his room to get some rest. He knew that it was impossible for him to sleep at this state, but he couldn't very well bang on Rogue's door, wake her up and _then_ tell her his feelings, now could he?

Tomorrow, everything would happen tomorrow.

tbc


	12. Chapter 12

12/13

Apparently, he was wrong. Because of some weird circumstance, Scott Summers slept soundly that night. Apparently all that late nights contemplating and thinking finally caught up with him and with the indefinable weight lifted off his chest, this was as good time as any for his body to regain the lost sleep.

When he woke up, saw that his alarm clock did not go off, and that it was five hours when he was supposed to wake up. Normally, he would've panicked. But this day, he was feeling an abnormal sort of calmness around him. He got up with a smile on his face and took his time preparing for the day that he was going to have.

As soon as he got down, he would find Rogue--who was probably sitting in the Rec. room watching the morning rerun of her favorite weekly show--and talk her out of the stupid trip to Europe. He'd apologize first, of course, and try very hard not to call the said trip 'stupid'.

But for him to do that, he needed to look his best. So he took his time showering and fixing his hair. After forty-five minutes of grooming, he finally deemed himself worthy of outside light.

And so Scott Summers went out of his room _whistling_. Yes, he was whistling some stupid tune that he can't remember where he picked up. The younger trainees were giving him weird looks; as well as they should, because this is one radical change from the state he was in these past few days.

As soon as he entered the kitchens, he immediately scanned the room for her but it was a fruitless effort as in the said room were only the new comers in the mansion, hoping to avoid the bustle of the kitchens during lunchtime.

He walked out of the room and headed towards his second destination, the Rec. room. Again, Rogue wasn't there either, as the mansion's male population filled the room, watching a rerun of last night's wrestling match.

He was about to head outside, thinking that she was probably out by the fountains brooding when he spotted Kitty walking from the general direction of the Med. Lab.

"Hey Kitty," he greeted her with a smile. "'Morning."

She looked up at him, apprehensive. The sudden switch of moods probably confused her. "Hi Scott. Good morning to you too,"

"Have you seen Rogue? Is she outside? I've got something to tell her,"

She gave him a weird look. "Don't you know? She's in our room. She hasn't gone out since I left her there this morning."

"Why?" He asked her, his face painted a look of perplexity. "It's a Saturday morning. Shouldn't she be outside already?"

"Yeah well her trip with Warren to Europe is already tomorrow before dawn, and in the true-blue Rogue fashion, she's just decided that she needed to pack."

"She's already _packing_?" he asked, the tone of bewilderment apparent in his voice.

"Uh-huh. As well she should! She's got tons to pack for. Scott?" But her last sentence went unheard as Scott Summers ran to Kitty and Rogue's shared room.

With his chest heaving and his hair disheveled, he turned the knob without knocking and found the room neat and tidy but the person he was looking for was not present.

'_Think, think, think._' He said to himself. If he were Rogue, and clearly she's finished packing, where would she be now? The answer dawned upon him after a few seconds and it took him less than that amount of time to run down to the garage.

He bumped into a few people along the way and to his credit he did shout out apologies behind his back as he was berating himself thoroughly for wasting too much time fixing himself up.

He reached the garage and found her, thankfully enough, alone. She was putting what looked like the last large suitcase inside the trunk of Warren's car and her back was to him.

"Rogue," he said, his voice raspy and sounded like the wind was knocked out of him. He took the opportunity to gather his breath by bending forward, supporting his upper torso by putting his hands in his knees. He noticed idly that the hair he spent so much time fixing was now in a different level of disarray. He didn't want her to see him like this looking pathetic but he didn't have any other choice, did he?

She turned toward him, a number of expressions painting her face. The first was mild surprise, the second was puzzlement and then the third was the ongoing feeling of anger that had been boiling inside her for a few days now. She took a defensive stance; her arms folded with one of her eyebrows raised.

"I don't want you to go to Europe with Warren," he spat out. Okay, wasn't as smooth as he planned but what-the-hey.

The only reaction he received was a look of incredulity.

"Not that I have any right to dictate your actions. You're your own person, after all and if there was an independent person in this mansion, it would be you," Scott backtracked quickly. "But still, I don't want you to go to Europe with Warren Worthington III."

She looked at him with a piercing gaze and after what seemed like eternity, after he thought that she would just walk out on him, she replied. "Why not? I heard Europe's quite nice this time of the year,"

"I don't' want you to go _anywhere_ with him," he said. "I want you to stay here in boring-old-Bayville. With me."

She opened her mouth to speak but he cut her off. "I know that doesn't sound much, as compared to what he's offering. I mean, how crazy would you be to turn down an indefinite trip to Europe with such a perfect man like Warren, right? But I'm begging you to reconsider your choice. I'm pretty sure that Warren's exactly what you're looking for in a guy, and he's ready to offer you everything. If you're already in love with him, then I can't anything anymore but I've got to get this out of my chest: I think I'm in love with you"

"I'm not in love with him," Rogue said, after a long stretch of silence. A look of relief flooded through Scott. "And neither is he in love with me, okay? It's not like that."

"What? But I thought you were going to elope with him and get married in his hometown."

"You thought _what_? I just turned eighteen, Scott! How can I possibly be thinking of marriage? And eloping? _Eloping_? Me?"

He shrugged. It all sounded plausible in his head. "Well if you're not going to run off with him, then what's this whole stupid trip for?"

She looked at him exasperatedly and cracked him a smile. "It's for his wedding, okay?"

"His . . . wedding?" he repeated dumbly.

"Yeah," she answered. "His wedding to his long time fiancée, some lady named Betsy. He just wanted me to come and watch it. I suppose he felt sorry for me because I spent almost all of my life with my powers that he invited me to his wedding. I think he thought it to be some kind of vacation for me."

Scott was silent, trying to digest everything that she's just said. So Warren and her _weren't _in love with one another. Man, did he need to work in his paranoia or what?

"Scott, really, I thought you knew me better than that," she remarked with a smile. "What I have with Warren is something familiar, brotherly, okay?"

"So you don't love him?"

She shook her head no and took a few steps towards him. Suddenly, there was a very dark shade of pin in her cheeks and she looked up at him shyly. "Wh-what were you saying earlier?"

It suddenly came back to him, and the heat rushed up his face just as quickly. To hell with it; he already came this far, he's not going to back out now. "I think I'm in love with you, Rogue. It took me a while to realize, and I hope you're not turned off by my stupidity about this whole thing, but I sincerely hope that what you're feeling for Warren isn't the same as the emotions you feel for me."

A smile slowly grazed upon her lips. She's very pretty when she smiles, Scott thought idly, noting that this is probably the best time to kiss her.

So he did.

And the moment their lips met, his world went black.

tbc


	13. chapter 13

13/13

Scott regained his consciousness slowly. He took note of his surroundings; there was virtually no noise to speak of and he was lying down. Out of sheer reflex, his right hand shot out to where his shades should lay in his bedside desk.

It wasn't there. He groaned.

And then he heard some shuffling sounds and the next thing he felt was that someone was putting on his glasses for him.

He opened his eyes slowly and cautiously and saw the worried face of Rogue.

"Hey," he greeted her, his voice raspy. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it registered that he was here beside her and not in some plane beside Warren. Also, he took note of his environs and found out that he was in his own room.

"I'll just go and call the professor, okay?" she said softly, as she prepared to stand up from her seat. His hand shot out to hold her gloved hand.

"No, I want you to stay here with me for a while," he said, his thumb stroking the back of her hand in an effort to erase the look of worry in her face. He almost didn't want to ask, as he had a tiny inkling as to what he thought happened, but he knew that he had to. "What happened?"

Her face fell and he knew that she was trying hard to keep the tears from falling. "The second serum . . . it didn't quite work as permanently as we thought. I had no idea that my powers were back, and I'm so sorry about what happened this morning."

He shushed her quietly and shot her a lopsided grin. "Stop. I'm only too happy that I got to kiss you."

"Scott, you don't understand: my powers are back. The Professor and Dr. Hank won't give me another shot and it would take a _really_ long time for me to control my powers. I don't even know for sure if I can do it . . . and if you want to go back to just the way we used to be, then I'd totally understand--"

"Why would I want to do that?" he asked her.

"Because my powers are back." Rogue answered automatically.

"Rogue, I fell in love with you and not with your powers. I don't care if they're gone or not, I still feel the same about you, okay? And I know for a fact that you can control them and up until that moment, I'll be there beside you."

She smiled at him gratefully. It was only a matter of seconds before she broke down and began sobbing onto his bedside. After she regained her composure, he decided to change topics. "So, I noticed that you're still here. Where's Warren?"

"He's already on the plane on his way back home," she said with a smile, wiping away the stray tears that still clung to her cheeks. "I told him immediately that I couldn't go with him to see his wedding because of this new situation. He understood perfectly, of course, although I suppose he was a little disappointed in me."

"I don't care if he's mad; you're here with me now, and that's all that matters."

She smiled a genuine smile once again after such a long time. Scott felt her grip in his hand tighten a little bit. "Scott, I'm scared," she whispered. Somehow, with her sharing this, he knew that the trust that that had been gone for a while was finally starting to return. "Of it never happening; of it being too hard."

"Rogue, I think that it's supposed to be hard," he said honestly. Sweet words and false hopes would do her no good at this point. "But I'm willing to offer myself for you. I promise to be there every step of the way, okay? You'll never have to worry about being alone in this,"

She smiled once again. "Let's work on this, shall we?"

All he could do was nod. Really, he had nothing to offer her but himself at this point. The mere fact that she accepted made his heart soar through the clouds. And suddenly, he knew that everything would be all right with them.

Fin

**A/N:** muchos thanks to all of those who've stayed behind this fic. i owe you a lot, more than you'll ever know. special thanks to jupiterhime, who was my first ever reviewer and to chica de los ojos cafe, who practically reviewed each and every chapter.

and i'm off. hope you enjoyed your stay.


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